Peavey Way

ONE

I want to be dead. I'm not talking about the kind of dead that people talk about where they move on to some sort of hereafter or what they've dreamed or hoped is a better place.
"The dog went to live on a farm," always sounded as believable to me as "grandma is in a better place now."
No, I want to be dead and buried. I think that's more fitting for me. It always has been, for as long as I've known myself. It's my good and deserved ending.
When my body ceases to function and I breathe my last breath, I don't know exactly what's going to happen, but I do know that I will not be moving from that spot. The mortician, or whoever plans these things for the lonely and the unnamed, will deem that to be my resting place. And I plan on resting.
The problem is that I don't know that when the day of judgement comes around, there won't be angels and their friends trying to pull me out to answer for all of my various crimes against humanity. When God arrives, He'll no doubt know where I am. But sometimes I think, maybe he'll peer down at me and say, "let's leave her be. She's comfortable down there." That feels like something He'd say.

I had a pain in the far right corner of my forehead that throbbed like something was about to burst. My two fingers trembled as I pressed them to the area of pressure and gently massaged it. My eyelids were clamped as I struggled to hear the individual words of the lecture, not wanting it all to just string together.

My efforts were wasted as my mind selected various specific words instead of concepts. "Gather," "peoples," "textbook," "colony." Every word from my professor was an audible nail in my coffin.

I had to leave.

I peeled my eyes open and looked to the guy sitting a few seats away from me. His eyes met mine and I blinked hard at his glance. "Are you okay?" He mouthed to me. I almost laughed. Did I look so bad that this sorry student felt the need to ask this? Yeah, it was time to go. Without answering the boy, I grasped my bag and rose quickly from my seat. Normally I would've given my professor an apologetic look to at least pretend like it was something urgent that was pulling me away, but no such excuses could be mustered.

I stumbled out the door, pressing my arm painfully into the handle. My feet propelled me down the hall. My mind was numb to the motion and the wind against my face.

My feet continued all the way to a study hall near the music building. I fought my desire to throw myself into one of the cushioned chairs and sleep off the filth I felt. Why did I stay out so late again? Kelly is going to be the death of me, I thought. She was so encouraging, and somehow deceptive. She never pushed me into anything.

Why was it so difficult to say no?

I glanced around to find Brandon sitting with his laptop on his knees. His headphones were perched on his temples as he stared into the screen that was comparatively small against the backdrop of his long, thin torso. He was a tower in any chair he sat in.

I plodded ungracefully to the seat adjacent to his and sat.

"Aren't you supposed to be in class?"
"Screw it." My fingers pressed shakily against my closed eyelids and I leaned my head back into the wooden edge of the chair. My breathing sounded so loud in the silence of the hall. I tried to stifle it by breathing through my nose. It was working to relax me very quickly.
"Lauren," I heard him say faintly, but my body didn't have the motivation to acknowledge it.
"Lauren," a kick to my foot caused my eyes to crack open, revealing a stinging light that I had already lost adjustment to.
"I heard you. What?"
"What are you doing tonight?" I blinked at him. Probably something with Kelly, I thought. There was no variation in that these days. I wondered why she hadn't texted me yet to present her plans.
"Are you asking me out?" I asked, glancing at his legs. I loved those long legs. They were one of the only good parts of him.
"I'm afraid not. Simon still doesn't have your number so he told me to invite you."
"Invite me to what?" My shoulders felt a little tense. Was I forgetting something?
"Simon wanted to tell us all something."
"Who is 'us all'?"
"You, me, Kelly, Josh," His voice was so monotone. It would be so easy to fall asleep to it. I forgot for a moment that I was obligated to answer him.
"If Kelly's going then I'll go."
"Then you're going." He replied quickly, without looking at me. I nodded and pulled my hood down over my eyes. As long as Brandon was there, I wouldn't be worried about somebody messing with me if I fell asleep in public. My eyes fluttered closed. I could faintly hear his fingers clicking against his keyboard.

I have this odd sense that I'm giving in: Not just in moment-to-moment situations, but in my very existence. There's some kind of force that's always been pulling me, but it's never been sure. I don't know. I've never been especially talented in anything. I've never been dedicated to specific causes.There have been few consequences because of my lack of speciality, and I've been so compliant about the ride until recently. Now that I feel like I might be going against my generalized way of living, I suddenly feel lost. I don't understand the discovery of passions. Perhaps that means that I'm doomed to be void of them.

I felt a tug on my shoulder, jerking me into awareness. I let out a short shriek of alarm, causing a petite, cold hand to clasp over my mouth. I looked up angrily at Kelly and shoved her hand away.

"What the hell?" My voice came back to me in a startling echo. She laughed at me.
"How long have you been asleep here?" She put her hands over her thin hips as she leaned over me. I glanced around. The hall was completely empty. Thanks for nothing, Brandon.
"What time is it?" I groaned through closed teeth.
"It's like five thirty." I scoffed a laugh. Six hours. I slept for six hours.
"Well at least I'm not tired anymore." I stretched my hands far above my head. I could feel the ache in my back strain from me slouching in a chair for so long.

"Good, because we're going to dinner!" Kelly chimed. I shot her a sideways look.
"Are we? Who with?" She smiled. Her eyes were unbearably bright in the poorly lit hall.
"Brandon said that he told you already! We're going to Simon's and Josh's. And I told them you'd bring a dessert!" I snorted and grasped at my bag, silently grateful that nobody took it while I was sleeping.
"Well that's funny since I'm definitely not doing that." Kelly's lips pressed together briefly before she straightened her back.
"Sure you are! But we're going to be late so we have to bake fast!" She grabbed my jacket sleeve and pulled me up swiftly. Her soccer body always gave her strength advantage over me. Though she was stronger than me in just about every sense.

My head swam at my sudden adjustment. Kelly grabbed my bag and leaned on her right foot, clearly raring to go.

"And what if I didn't come? What if I actually wanted to stay home and study tonight?" I said with shaky frustration. I couldn't figure out why, but I felt somewhat nervous to say it. Kelly's brows lowered. I saw a sort of shadow in her face that was very rare for her. She readjusted her hand on my bag several times before she let out a small sigh.

"Then I'd say you were lying. I'd also say that your friend asked you to come, and even though you pretend that you don't care about anything, you at least care about your friends," She said gravely before she gave a heartless kind of shrug. That felt true. I hated how true that felt.

I blinked hard and jerked my bag away from her.

"What are we baking?"